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But he was still there, waiting for the mercy of passersby. Over time the pigeons were seizing all ceilings of the building, made unbearable the life of residents of the orphanage and the Church that stood inside, daytime covered all the patio stone in which formerly Lili play happy. What did not change in this dense and overwhelmed landscape were the bells of the Church, as ignoring the facts that occurred during those years. A stormy night he was gnashing the ceiling of the room of Lili, worm-eaten by time and the doves, frightened fell to seek help from father Jaime whose rooms were on the floor prior to yours, father ran down the stairs, fearing to fall part of the roof. The young man went up after him, when he entered the room he saw the risen man to the window, the din of rays and the noise caused by the detachment of the eaves of the window in his clash against the stone courtyard it terrorized, intuited instantly hell had both instilled him in years of orphanhood, years that sesgaron their innocence, their freedom. The man dressed in black, tilted toward the place where she believed glimpse a world of hopes, illuminated by the light of lightning, resembled the demon. Resolved, immutable, serene, approached and with all the strength that gave him the hatred stored in his body, pushed him. The old beggar, contracted, sheltered under the portico, saw the figure of a bird giant, lit their blackness by the lights of the storm, fly so eventful and frantic, until you see it horrified crashing against stones.

He felt an intense cold inside, as the empty cold of an era that was fleeing. The noise of the body to the fall was mitigated by the bells of the Church began chiming, announcing the midnight. Las palomas, obcecadas in their shadows, were quiet and silent. ******************************************************************************************* Autor original y fuente del articulo.